So, I wake up this morning and like every morning, reach for the newspaper, to go as a snack with my wake-me-up tea. After all, to act as an adult, I must pretend to know/care/understand what is happening, with the planet.
Turns out, a LOT.
A lot is happening, with the planet!
To be precise: 20 pages. Printed front & back. Magazines extra.
I'm amazed. Because absolutely nothing is happening with/around me. And, I'm an active earth-man. One with membership to the cheapest of up-class gyms, singular status and a room with wooden speakers with boosters and all that.
Try pretending to know/care/understand what is happening in my life, and the best you will get out of me is :
"Well... Aaaeeenh!"
***
How's that possible? How can SO much happen everyday, day after day, on a consistent basis, on a planet inhabited by 6.6 billion blokes, who are just as BORED as me?!
How easy it must be for the planets to have a conversation with other planets over cosmic-coffee, or while they cross each other during their rounds? How effortlessly they can answer these questions? The kind, that absolutely petrifies the denizens of the above mentioned places, and is yet thrown around so carelessly by the same!
Uranus: Hey buddy, What's Up?
Earth: Well ... markets crashing, glaciers melting, politicians fighting, celebrities mating ... the regular. Here, take a copy of the Daily Tribune. 20 pages.
20 pages.
I'm flummoxed to see, how events happening around the world, always fit in exactly 20 pages!
There's "aaaaalways" something happening.
And these events are evenly spaced, like they have a deal amongst them, not to take each others charm away.
***
How about a boring day for the planet?
One morning I would like to wake up, reach for the newspaper, to go as a snack with my wake-me-up tea, and read:
"Well... Aaaeeenh!"
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
his life he tows; through happiness, general ennui, and throes; seeking repose, understanding things as he grows; busily bored, tries his hand at verse and prose ...
